


What would I say?

by wehadchips



Category: Bon Jovi, Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Crossover, Feels, M/M, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-13
Updated: 2016-10-13
Packaged: 2018-08-22 07:00:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8276950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wehadchips/pseuds/wehadchips
Summary: Jon Bon Jovi meets the Doctor. They time travel back to 1985, before they wrote the album Slippery When Wet. He's not supposed to interfere, but what can he do? He didn't plan on meeting young Richie too.Full of feels because of the actual situation of the band, Richie leaving and everything.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Got this idea from a recent q&a where someone asked Jon what he'd say to his younger self. Well, in this fic I don't actually write that, but what happened right after he met 23 year old Jon.  
> As a Doctor Who fan, I just had to write it.  
> Hope you enjoy it!

“Never thought I’d be seeing this again, oh God.” Thought Jon while walking fast trying to follow the Doctor five steps ahead of him. It was a narrow corridor of some random venue, many people from the staff were also walking fast, trying to fit in the small space. What his eyes had caught was, in between the staff people were small groups of… well, groupies. With those weird 80s clothes and the hair. The HAIR!  
What’s with the hair? Who thought that was pretty? Well, he knew where they were headed, the chosen ones. To the dressing rooms or directly to the cars heading towards the hotels. Sometimes they were there already waiting for them, had gotten there even before they left the venue. The hunger for sex with a rock star.

“Seeing wh… oh! C’mon, don’t get distracted, we gotta get to the TARDIS in less than 10 minutes. Don’t look at me like that, it’s your fault! You had to touch younger you? Now you’ve made a mess telling him all that stuff…”

“Well, he… I… uhm, younger me asked. I had to answer!”

“Not with all the details!”

“He had to know!”

“No, he didn’t. It’s going to happen in 28 years!”

“Exactly! I don’t remember a thing, so he forgot all I told him!”

“Well, of course! I wiped his mind! It’s your fault he’s gonna wake up all confused not knowing where he is!”

“Funny I don’t remember this night.”

“Here, let’s take this way we should get there faster. No, you don’t remember ‘cause I deleted everything. Oh, I don’t like this word… delete. Bad memories. Anyway, there’s nothing of this night, nothing at all, for you to remember. You’ll just wake up a bit confused thinking you drank too much and I think that was pretty common when you were 23.”

“Yeah, but…” he stopped in his tracks. They had turned to another hallway and more people were coming towards him. No one seemed to know who he was, everybody was so busy they didn’t even look at each other’s faces. Best time to walk unnoticed, after a gig. Everyone was too busy collecting their stuff and setting things up to leave. 

But then Richie was walking in his direction, at the other end of the hallway. Younger Richie.  
26 year old Richie with a beer on his hand, the other holding a towel, wiping his face and hanging it on his right shoulder. God, he was hot. The sudden feelings that struck him were so strong he shivered lightly.  
The Doctor walked past Richie and didn’t even notice him, so hasty that he was. When Richie was closer to Jon, he slowed down and stopped in front of him. Jon’s breathing was fast, his body was tense. Was he allowed to talk to him? Probably not. Was he going to? Probably so.  
Richie rubbed his eyes with his free hand and studied Jon a little. Frowned a bit, smiled and started to walk again.  
It was an impulse. Jon didn’t think, he just did. He grabbed Richie’s arm, calling his name, sounding almost a plea.

“Richie…”

“Jon are you aware the universe may implode because you touched him?” asked the Doctor in a high pitched voice.

‘I don’t know about the universe, but I would explode if I didn’t touch him.’ Thought Jon.

The guitarist looked at where their skin touched and back to Jon’s eyes. Jon saw it, he’d recognized him. Must be the voice? No. The eyes? Has to be my eyes. Or maybe the way I say his name? He once told me I had this particular way of saying his name, no one else did it like I do. Or maybe…

“Jon? That you?” He looked so confused, poor guy.

Jon just smiled. He wanted to bring him closer, to hold him. But he saw with the corner of his eyes, the Doctor approached them. He may have had his hands on his head. Maybe not. He didn’t look at him. He also may have heard the Doctor’s voice, so far that he could barely hear, something like “what are you doing for Rassilon’s sake?”

“Wha… what happened? Is that really you?” 

“Yes, Richie. Hello.”

Richie lifted his hand to touch Jon’s arm and shoulder. The Doctor just turned his back mumbling “oh, yes. Touch each other, why not? It’s just the universe tearing apart, who cares? Might as well kiss, will ya? They never listen to me!”

“But I… I talked to you like… fifteen minutes ago or something. You were…”

“Don’t worry, child me is resting in the dressing room where you left him. This is old me.”

Richie scoffed and let go of his arm. “Riiiiiight, hahaha. Go to hell, Jonny. What kind of joke is this, you wearing make up?” He lifted the bottle to his mouth and drank a bit.

“No. No make up. Listen, I don’t have much time.”

“Damn right you don’t!” said the Doctor, with his arms crossed over his chest, leaning on the wall about two meters of them.

“Jon, for fuck’s s…”

“No, no. Listen. I can’t say much, ok? I just. I just wanted to… hell, I don’t even know what I can say to you. I don’t even know what I want to say to you! Just…”

“Who’s that guy?” said Richie, pointing to the Doctor.

“Hi, I’m the Doctor. Nice to meet you.” Said he, waving his hand with a smile. “Jon, we really reeeeeally have to…”

“No, wait a minute! I asked you to come here, didn’t I? Let me… finish.”

“You have five minutes! No more than that.” and walked a few more steps farther. 

“Richie, look…”

“Wait, this is real isn’t it? This is my second bottle of beer after the gig, I’m not drunk. Yet. This is happening? This is real? You’re like… 60 years old, in front of me?”

“SIXTY?! What the fuck! I don’t look that old!”

“Sorry, man. It’s the hair.”

“Ah, yes. Young me fretted about the hair, you know. But, listen. I gotta tell you one thing. Just… just one thing, ok. I don’t have much time and can’t say a lot. Gotta choose my words.”

“How are you here? Why are you here? Something happened?”

“No, nope. Can’t tell you any of that. What I can tell you is. God… I… see, we’re not in a good place right now. Right now, I mean… in my future.”

“Jon, am I going to need to wipe out his memory too?” said the Doctor quite loud behind him.

“No! No, just let me finish! Richie, I just wanted to tell you. If you even remember this night, any of what’s happening here. If you remember any of it in 30 years, I just want you to remember these three words.”

Richie smiled. “Ohh, ohhh you gonna do that?”

“It’s not THOSE three words.” He smiled, remembering. “Believe me, I’m gonna say those three words eventually, can’t remember exactly when right now… maybe in some random motel, in the middle of the night… anyway. No, not now…”

“Motel? Really?” Richie said with a half smile, quite seductively. 

Jon said nonchalantly, “What can I do? I could be romantic, but I chose not to”

“Yeah?” Richie was getting closer to him, still smiling. This was dangerous. Wasn’t it? Well, he had touched him already, what could be so bad? Jon closed the gap between them and held both of Richie’s arms, near the elbow, caressing them with his thumb.

“Yes. Listen. Now, remember this. Whatever happens, whatever you do, whatever I do… just… please…” They were staring at each other’s eyes so intently, looking into each other’s souls. Richie paying attention to every word, feeling Jon’s hands on his arms, his skin sensing every single inch of the contact. “Don’t leave me.”

Richie held his breath for some seconds, trying to digest what Jon had just said. Why would he leave him?

“I know you don’t understand right now, but please. Remember that. Don’t leave me. Never. Please. I…”

“I don’t… why would I? Oh, God… I didn’t die did I?”

“No, no.” Jon lowered his head smiling. “Nothing of the sort. Just… I really can’t say much, Rich. Just that. I need you. I… the band needs you, ok? Don’t leave me. Don’t leave us.”

A moment passed, the two of them looking to each other’s eyes, so many words unsaid. Jon’s hands moved to Richie’s forearms, wrists and got his right hand, grasping firmly.

“I have to go now. Go find me in the dressing room, if I’m confused, say nothing. Just take me back to the hotel, I probably need some rest. You too. But, please… even if you forget everything that happened here, just remember these three words. Don’t leave me.”

He let go of Richie’s hand and started to move backwards. Richie stepped forward and grabbed him by the shoulders.

“You’re right, I don’t understand shit of what’s going on here. But I’ll keep these words in my mind. I swear. I don’t know what happened, or… will happen. But I promise. I won’t leave you. Ever.” He brought Jon close to him into an embrace. Jon was a bit motionless at the start, but wrapped his arms around him, holding tight.

“Man, you still smell good.” Whispered the guitarist, making Jon shiver again.

Jon wanted to kiss him so bad. He was so close to his mouth, just a few inches more and they’d lock lips. 

“Jon, now is really time to go. We have to.” The Doctor touched Jon’s arm, urging him to let go of Richie. It would be so painful, the departure. He didn’t want to go. He just wanted to be there in Richie’s arms, what was so wrong in that? Why couldn’t he?  
They split, Richie still holding Jon’s right hand. Jon looked up to Richie’s eyes once more, feeling the tears coming up. He didn’t want to cry in front of Richie. He never wanted to. Sometimes he couldn’t hold it, but not now, he had to be strong. 

“See you in another life, then.” Said Jon, squeezing Richie's hand one last time to finally let go.

He turned away as the Doctor grabbed his arm, leading him to the other corridor where the TARDIS was landed in a small room next to the brooms, squeegees and mops.  
Before they turned the corner, Richie called him.

“Hey, Jon!”

Jon turned on his heels to look at the young version of Richie once more. What a sight that was. He never thought of how much he missed it… those years, when they were so young and discovering the world, each other… of how fucking handsome that bastard looked. He never really thought he missed it, until now.

“Yeah?”

“What was my answer? When you… said the three words? What did I say?” Richie asked, smiling, leaning on a wall, after taking another sip of his beer.

Jon just gave him that smile. The smile Richie loved. He told him that, once. Well, the whole fan base likes that smile. But it’s still special when it’s directed to Richie.

He then turned away again and followed the Doctor into the corridor and inside the room.  
When they were finally inside the TARDIS, Jon stopped right after he went through the doors and held the handrail with one hand, the other went to his eyes to try and hold back the tears that were finally falling. He squeezed his eyes and nose, cleaning the moist from his face. He walked to the Doctor, who was doing his stuff with the control buttons, making the TARDIS fly or whatever she did.

“Weeeell.” Said the Doctor. “Technically it’s four words, you know?”

“What?” his mind was so distracted, thinking of what he had left behind. And what he was going to find when returned to his own time.

“’Don’t leave me’ are technically four words.” He was smiling, tugging at his ear, probably trying to cheer Jon up a bit. He’d had his share of crying in the TARDIS too.

“Shut up. We used this in I’ll Be There For You too… no one noticed.”

They both smiled and watched as the TARDIS made her weird but fantastic sound, while the bright cylinder went up and down at the center of the control panel.


End file.
